For those in the temperate climes, welcome to the butthole of winter. It’s cold, it’s gray, and it will sap whatever positivity you might have, if you let it. A friend of mine once told me that the winter is always the hardest time to stay sober. He told me that every time he relapsed, and there were several times, it had been during the winter. Well, with the winter now going strong and thoroughly starting to fuck with me, I can see some evidence of winter being the relapse season.
One of my best friends, we'll call him N, whom I met while in rehab and then lived in the same halfway house with, went back out in a bad, bad way. It started off with the classic “one more time” move. He came back from the usual job search time we were given at the house. We had to be out from 8 a.m. and could return no earlier than 3 p.m. or so. He came back late, when our group had already started, at around 6:30.
It was the day I was leaving the house and everyone said their official "goodbye' to me, but by the time he got there, it was over. I could tell something was up, but I just didn’t want to think he was high. Long story short, he admitted the next day, after my almost talking to the counselor about it, that he had indeed gotten high.
He made his pilgrimage to the West side, scored some bags and a jab, and went to town. He dodged the piss tests and played it cool for the next week. I didn’t hear from him much. He admitted, though perhaps I persuaded him, that the small amount of pleasure was not worth the next week of hassle and almost going back to jail.
Later however, I received a call from my roommate, who had been in rehab with both N and me, telling me that N was in jail. He had been picked up in Chicago at the scene of a head-on collision between his truck and another car. He was both drunk and high. He totaled the truck that he was so proud to have just gotten working again. N now sits in jail, ready for the court to send him to another rehab facility in the city, to start the process all over again.
Another friend of mine, a girl who I had dated briefly after rehab, seemed on the right path. Though she got pregnant by a friend of mine (who ended up being that same roommate I just mentioned, who went to rehab with all of the people thus far mentioned) and things had been rocky, she stayed positive. We even made a pact to quit smoking, which I have thus far kept. But recently, she found out that the baby had died in the womb. This precipitated in a break-up between her and my roommate, then in her relapse.
Though it seems she did it once, she is doing nothing to get back into recovery. Whereas she used to attend meetings all the time, she now pushes that issue aside in conversation. She has commenced to hang out with old friends, who may or may not get high. The situation has a certain stink to it. I attempted to accompany her to a meeting, purposely staying around town later than I normally would before making my hour commute back home. I was politely ditched. But I really was not surprised.
There are more people I know diving back into the icy waters. It’s disheartening, and it’s all new to me, so it’s hard to know what to make of it. I don’t want to get jaded, but I also don’t want to be so naïve and allow these very common occurrences to rip away a piece of me each time they happen. Some might hear this and think, “Why bother? These dumbasses did this to themselves, and in doing it all over again prove themselves to be even dumber –– they deserve what they get”.
Sure, I guess that’s an easy way to go through life without learning to truly care about others. But I have been on that end. I have been confronted, given a chance, and tossed it away to keep getting high. I know that at least for me, it had little to do with smarts, because I did some really clever things to stop myself from getting caught, to keep getting drugs after being monitored, to pass drug tests, etc.
For me it had everything to do with running on autopilot, pursuing only pleasure at the cost of everything else. It wasn’t until I was basically kicked in the balls by everyone around me, and the law, that I realized I couldn’t get a grip on the way I had been operating. But how do I convey the urgency to those around me? How do I get the people I have come to care about to see that they don’t have to give up –– that they can do this? At this point, I’m not sure. I have no answers except this: winter is fucking mean, it’s a time that is even harder for those already depressed and fighting.
I can say all I want that I don’t plan on going down, but that won’t make it so. I’ve heard my fair share of horror stories, and I don’t wish to repeat them. But I was surprised to hear that there is still some hubris out there, still some people who have managed to climb out of the shit, but are continuing to tempt the beast. A fellow in my outpatient therapy class is one such person.
He is, as all of us are, court mandated to be there. He has been sober 5 months, yet done all 12 steps and every weekend goes to the bar with his friends and drinks only water. He admittedly has PTSD and is under the stress of simultaneously finding a job and fighting a court case.
I found it odd that he is willing to walk back into a bar frequently when it was that same kind of place that landed him in his current situation. I asked him how, with so many other uncertainties in his life, he could throw one more uncertainty in the mix. He claimed confidence in himself and said that he was able to control himself. But he could not point out to me what exactly made him not able to control himself merely 5 months ago. It seems that the only thing that changed was having a program. But what match is that for your old friend, Jack Daniels, as he stares you dead in the face when all you want is to forget about your shit day?
I just wonder why one would leave that to chance? Really, it’s just not playing the odds. But that is the type of person that might just beat those odds, and if they do, more power to them. However, I still can’t swallow the idea of throwing yourself into a situation where the thing that tempts you most is constantly in your face. It seems like living the rest of my life is more important than just being able to “hang out” in a bar. I place no importance in that ability, it seems like pure hubris, pride before the fall. Some people need to feel cocky, but to me, it just doesn’t make sense. And I’ve seen it end with relapse too many times to even take this fellow’s claim seriously. Apologies for sounding crass, perhaps I am jaded after all.
So I guess if there’s one thing to take away from this whole rant I’ve just laid out, it’s that whatever us addicts usually do to stay sober, we need to go hardcore at right now. This seems to be the time when people start to drop like flies, and if I as an addict am to be of any help to anyone in need, I must be solid in my recovery. I must stay vigilant and never forget the place from whence I came.
Keep on keeping on, folks. And to steal a quote from the great Kevin Seconds: “Use your head, be aware, give….a….fuck!!!!!”
Disclaimer: This article is written from the point of view of one single addict. It is not intended to give any definitive answers to medical, psychological, or legal issues. Anyone having problems with addiction/alcoholism should contact either their doctor, psychologist, psychiatrist, nearest substance abuse treatment center, Alcoholics Anonymous or Narcotics Anonymous hotline, or all of the aforementioned. Support can also be found at SG's own Sobriety Group
estate_tacks
Waukegan, IL
August 2006
JAN 16, 2009 02:03 PM